This is a record of my journey as a Muslim. I used to be Catholic and belonged to a missionary organisation. After my conversion, I sat on the board of a Muslim converts' organisation and specialised in da'wah programmes, convert management, interfaith issues and apostasy cases. I am an initiate of a Sufi order. As such, the articles and writings tend to cover these areas.
All the Arabic and graphics could not have been done without the help of my wife, Zafirah.

Ash’arite: "If
Allah (s.w.t.) Denies you something
that belongs to you, then Allah (s.w.t.)
Commits an evil act. But if Allah (s.w.t.) Denies you something that Belongs
to Him, then Allah (s.w.t.) simply Singles
Out for His Mercy whomever Allah (s.w.t.)
Pleases."

The problem of evil, especially human
suffering, exercised classical Muslim theologians as much it does Western
philosophers, theologians and scientists today. The issue then was basically the same as it is
now: If Allah (s.w.t.) is All-Good
and All-Powerful, how do we explain the existence of evil? The theological school known as Mu'tazilism
emphasised Allah’s (s.w.t.) All-Goodness
and argued that since Allah (s.w.t.)
is All-Good, He cannot be the source of evil. Rather, it is humans who inflict suffering on
other humans, entirely on their own. In
fact, the Mu'tazilites argued, beyond the original Act of Creation, humans are
not at all dependent on Allah (s.w.t.)
to do what they do but actually create their own acts. By contrast, the Ash'arite school emphasized Allah’s
(s.w.t.) All-Powerfulness and argued
that if Allah (s.w.t.) did not
control all the affairs of the universe, something other than Allah (s.w.t.) could bring about things that
went against His Will. For them,
whatever occurs had to occur because Allah (s.w.t.)
Willed it. Otherwise, Allah (s.w.t.) would be neither All-Powerful,
in complete control, nor, ultimately, God.

Both schools sought to absolve Allah (s.w.t.) of responsibility for evil. The Mu'tazilites did this by placing evil
human acts entirely outside His power and wholly in the hands of humans, which
left them to explain things like earthquakes, floods and cancer. The Ash'arites, meanwhile, argued that if Allah
(s.w.t.) is truly the All-Powerful
Owner of the universe, He must be Able to Do with Creation as He Pleases, and
no one can sit in judgment over what Allah (s.w.t.)
Does with His own "property." In
fact, the Ash'arites accused the Mu'tazilites of fudging the issue by falsely
privileging the human perspective on what actually constitutes good and evil. They denied that humans were the center of
some objective moral universe and pointed out that every moral judgment that
humans might make could be matched by an opposite judgment by other humans. In this context, human suffering might be evil
from the perspective of humans. But this
would be no more an objective basis for indicting Allah (s.w.t.) than would be the argument of plants and animals against
humans for eating them.

Of course, such arguments did not satisfy
everyone. The founder of the
Traditionalist school once asked rhetorically: If Allah (s.w.t.) is wholly unconnected to evil, what role can Allah (s.w.t.) play in lifting it? The Maturidite school, meanwhile, went even
further. Not only did its founder accept
that Allah (s.w.t.) could create
evil, he actually turned evil's existence into a proof of Allah’s (s.w.t.) Existence. According to him, had the universe come into
being on its own, it would have produced nothing that jeopardised its integrity
or well-being. Thus, the very existence
of evil implies autonomous choice on the part of something that stands outside
the system - God. Yet, while Allah (s.w.t.) can, according to the
Maturidites, Create evil and human suffering, Allah (s.w.t.) cannot and does not Create evil that does not ultimately
serve a wise purpose.

In all of this, Muslim theologians never
isolated a single Attribute of Allah as the sole basis of His Actions. While Mu'tazilites privileged Allah’s (s.w.t.) All-Goodness, this was tempered
by their recognition of Allah’s (s.w.t.)
Wisdom, Power, Autonomy, Patience and other Attributes. Ash'arites appear stoic in privileging Allah’s
(s.w.t.) All-Powerfulness, but only
if they are seen as negating His Goodness, Mercy, Justice and other Attributes.
In fact, when Ash'arites speak of Allah’s
(s.w.t.) Ability to do whatever He Pleases,
they are only speaking of what Allah (s.w.t.)
can Do. What Allah (s.w.t.) actually Does will be based not solely on His brute Power
but on the total composite of His Attributes. The same applies to Traditionalists and
Maturidites.

This strikes me to be perhaps among the most
important differences between classical Muslim and many modern, non-Muslim
Western discussions on evil and suffering. While the latter seem to isolate a single
attribute - All-Goodness, All-Loving, All-Powerful - and decide the issue on
that basis alone, the former simply emphasise a single attribute but cling to a
more complex composite of Divine "Character." In this light, the mere existence of evil and
suffering could not dispose of the God question. For even if every instance of human suffering
could tell us something about the Existence and Nature of Allah (s.w.t.), every instance of human happiness
and well-being must tell us something of equal proof-value about the Nature and
Existence of a complex, multifaceted Creator.

Muslim theologians summed up this dual reality
in the notion of living life between the two poles of hope and fear - hope that
the irresistible choices of an All-Powerful God would be ultimately tempered by
Mercy, Compassion and Love, and fear that they might not. Of course, the very notion of fear is a major
problem for religious discourse today, as "organised religion" has so
notoriously used it to exploit and subjugate believers. But just because one is paranoid does not mean
that one is not being followed. In the
end, we are all afraid, if not of Allah (s.w.t.),
death, and eternal damnation then of the earthly Hell of loveless objectification,
disrespect and nobodyness, a fear that can subject us to régimes of fantasy and
exploitation no less debilitating, and no less blasphemous, than religious
tyranny and treachery.

But is theology in the end really a match for
the brutalities and disappointments of life - an earthquake, the death of a
child, 9/11, the betrayal of a friend, spouse or sibling, the seemingly
schizophrenic turning of one's entire society against one? In these moments, it seems to matter little
whether one is a Mu'tazilite, Ash'arite, Maturidite or Traditionalist. For, while good theological answers may
empower one to understand catastrophe, understanding alone is rarely enough to
neutralize the pain of loss or regret. What I need here is solace and reconciliation
with the fact of my creatureliness; the courage, honesty and dignity to
acknowledge that I am not in control; yet the insight and fullness of soul to
see in the enormity of what has happened that I am just as eligible for
enormous good as I am for enormous tragedy. Here my reach is ultimately for something
"outside the system," something capable of breaking all the rules, of
defying the laws of probability and chance - for me. This is the beginning of the theological
impulse.

Yet, while, the theological impulse, however
crude, may be the beginning of my relationship with Allah (s.w.t.), it is only the beginning. And I must be careful not to mistake the menu
for the meal. Whether I emphasise Allah
(s.w.t.) Goodness or Justice, Power
or Wisdom, these mental abstractions will only take on concrete meaning for me
in the context of my actual relationship with Allah (s.w.t.). Ultimately, if the
real goal of theology is to promote a living relationship with Allah (s.w.t.) and not simply to paint a pretty
picture of Him, perhaps the real value of what it has to say about evil and
suffering resides not so much in how it mars or enhances idealised images of Allah
(s.w.t.) but in how it enriches or
impoverishes the human relationship with Allah (s.w.t.).